Finding Your Rhythm
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, day 1045a: The first time they wanted to put her there in that chair, she had another idea. - Faves cycle, day 16 of 21, Top 5 characters - Number 2


_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 49th cycle. Now cycle 50!_

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**CYCLE 50 SPECIAL FAVORITES CHART - **_So I've done 'favorites' cycles before, and this is another one, but since it's cycle 50, I wanted to do something special for it. So instead of the usual top 16 with a 6-chapter Boston Britt installment for Brittany (who has always been and remains number one ;)), this is how it will be: It's shift days through the cycle. Shift B will be a 21-chapter/day Boston Britt. In shift A, after the first day's 'extra' dedicated to New Directions, there will be four Top 5 lists, working their way down (all the number 5 spots, all the number 4 spots, number 3, 2, and finishing with all the number one spots)_

_The Top 5's are as follows (all are my 'top 5 favorite...'):  
* Top 5 Series (my series)  
* Top 5 Friendships  
* Top 5 Characters  
* Top 5 Relationships_

_**TODAY: Top 5 Characters: #2 - Quinn**  
_

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_**This is a double shift day.** There will be one more upload today: Those Are Wooden Wings, chapter 16._

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**"Finding Your Rhythm"  
Quinn**

They were going to let her decide 'when she was ready.' It was possibly the most ridiculous concept she'd ever heard. When would she be ready to be lifted up and put into a wheelchair, knowing that despite what she had been told, she could ready between the lines as much as the next girl, and she knew there was a more than possible chance that she'd never leave it?

She'd keep a positive outlook, for her mother, for all of them who would gaze upon her like she was to be pitied. She'd let them all know that she was… just happy to be alive. She was happy for this, it was true, how could she not? But from the moment she had realized she couldn't feel her legs, there was this feeling resting in the pit of her stomach like… this was it, this was going to be her life now. As soon as they had told her that there was a chance it would only be temporary, she added this to her gratitude for life to present someone who had gotten a wake up call and… She was that, in part. But in her heart she was still panicking… and being put in that chair felt like it would be an implosion of panic, and then everyone would know, and they would start coddling her… That was the last thing she wanted.

She would remember lying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, breathing in and out, for years to come. She would remember staring down at her legs, resting immobile and uncovered. She would remember deciding it wasn't going to be up to anyone else. They weren't going to come in here and pick her up and deposit her. The chair was right there. She'd get herself in it, and she'd eliminate the anxiousness, the trepidations… She could do this.

One more breath, then she would pull herself up, and… she paused, realizing she'd need some sort of plan. If she wasn't careful she'd just hurt herself more and she'd end up right back where she didn't want to be. She didn't know her limits yet… All she'd done was lie in bed most of the time, so she'd ask herself if she could even just sit up, reach for the furniture at her disposal and pull herself along… The moment she'd be off the bed, with unmoving legs, there was no turning back.

She had ended up pulling herself down by the bars on the side of her bed. She made herself go for it, just take it head on… and hope she didn't fall on her head. She'd stopped, needing to catch her breath, grasping the bars as she looked down to her legs sitting there, and feeling the ache in her body still. For a second the whole experience felt like it was a bad idea. But she remembered why she was doing it, and she made herself go on.

She could reach the chair sitting by her bed, give herself support to reach the next thing, and then if she just hung on somehow, she'd be able to pull the wheelchair and somehow lower herself into it. The longer she waited, the more taxing it would be on her energy. She had a plan now, so she had to go for it.

She was entirely expecting new bruises, and it was a miracle no one interrupted her, but she found her grips, and she pulled herself along, and after a near fall her fingers had found the chair and pulled it close so she could do this last part. It would have its own difficulties, she realized, but at this point what did she have as an option except this? It was on shaky arms and a tired body that she found herself sat in her wheelchair for the first time.

For a moment she couldn't think further than the fact that she'd made it, and she was breathing deep, kind of laughing… but then she was seeing herself again, and it was all coming back to her, and then the pride was fast turning to sadness. She cried quietly, closing her eyes like maybe she would forget all this.

When they had come to her room again and found her sitting there, it didn't take a genius to know what she'd done. As reactions went, it had been a bit of a 50/50, but she didn't care. She had needed to do this and she'd done it.

Later as she would begin moving about in her chair – now with help to get into it – it was odd but the first thing she could think about was that time a couple years back, when Mr. Schue had made them all go around in wheelchairs, to see what it was like for Artie… Well the joke was on her now. She got tired so quickly though, and she still just spent a lot of time in bed.

This was how it was going to be from now on… until she got better. She had to remember that last part, had to. This would be her life for the foreseeable future, so she had to get used to it. For now she was still in the hospital, but it wouldn't stay this way.

She was going to go back to school eventually, sooner rather than later if she had anything to say about it. She had to get her strength back so she could make it through the day. And she would still go to Glee Club, she would… It would be hard, sitting, not dancing, but she wouldn't deprive herself of this, not after she'd gotten it back. Then there would be physical therapy, which would start before her return to McKinley… She had no idea what to expect from that.

She just wanted to live her life as normally as possible. She wasn't in denial, she knew what had and would happen to her, but she wasn't letting it lead her down a path that wasn't her own. With each passing day she was getting closer to where she wanted to be, and that was good.

It wasn't until the morning of her return to school that it all sort of came back at her. She was all ready to go in there as the girl who was looking on the bright side, but it didn't mean she hadn't been struck blind by looking to the dark one either. She remembered the moments of panic and near total breakdown, and it gave her a shudder, nearly crying but barely holding on.

She had gotten stronger in her time away, she reminded herself. She knew how to get herself into the chair, knew how to take care of herself, and she wasn't nearly as tired. Her cuts and bruises had healed and, except for her chair, you couldn't even tell that anything had happened to her. So what did she have to be scared about?

They wouldn't look at her. She could just imagine what they would say, seeing the disgraced former head cheerleader return after the accident that had nearly cost her her life, confined to a wheelchair. Would they pin it on some kind of karmic payback?

She couldn't look like any of it bothered her. She had prepared herself, even if there was no telling what the real thing would be like. She had to remind herself things were already better than the day she had dragged her way into her chair for the first time. There was something just odd to an uphill battle when there was a wheelchair involved, but it wasn't like there was an actual hill; her biggest climb would be the handicap ramps… but still…

She could do this. If she'd gotten into her chair, then she could do this. Nothing ever seemed as hard when she compared it to that. So on she went.

THE END

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******A/N: This is a one-shot ficlet, which means that signing up for story alert will not bring you any alerts.  
****In the event of a sequel, the story will be separate from this one. And as chapter stories go, they are  
************always clearly indicated as such [ex: "Days 204-210" in the summary] Thank you!**


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